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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790387">Scandal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsusie/pseuds/lilsusie'>lilsusie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Timothée Chalamet - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:29:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsusie/pseuds/lilsusie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>the time when a girl ruined two relationships to date timothée chalamet</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Timothée Chalamet/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a simple encounter starts a life changing journey</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p>
<h3>chapter one: thursday morning</h3>
<h3></h3>
<p> </p><p>Timothée woke to steady rainfall and murky gray skies outside his window. He let himself revel in the tranquility of the simple but fascinating rhythm, peering out at the city draped in a heavy layer of nimbus clouds through half-asleep eyes. He was happy to see all was well in New York City and promptly pulled the comforter up to his chin and turned over to go back to sleep. </p><p>Then his cell phone vibrated. He let out an irritated groan and reached out to his nightstand, feeling around aimlessly for the device. The screen pierced through the darkness nearly blinding him and further provoking his irritation. </p><p>It was a text from Alayna. She wanted to get coffee in an hour. Timothée didn’t want to get coffee in an hour but he didn’t have much of a choice. He would get up in a few minutes.</p><p>Another vibration. It was Brian, his agent. <em> Please go to coffee with Alayna, </em> the message read. Two seconds later he added, <em> Now. </em></p><p>Timothée angrily untangled himself from the comforters to fulfill Brian and Alayna’s wishes, something he’d been doing a lot lately. This coffee date wouldn’t last longer than an hour if Timothée had anything to do with it. He lifted a sweatshirt over his head accompanied by the cap and hood combo to hide his disheveled hair and exhausted eyes from the impending paparazzi photos then plugged into a playlist to motivate himself to get through the morning. Something told him it would be a long one. </p><p>Timothée skipped over the river of rainwater rushing through the gutters as he stepped off the curb but happily walked through the shallow puddles in the concrete as he crossed the street. The rain let up a few blocks into the walk allowing the sun to make its debut in the skies. Timothée smiled at the warmth on his face and let his hood down so he could soak in every last ray of light. He was convinced the sun was the brightest, most beautiful thing he’d ever experienced—until he saw Marlowe. </p><p>She was tall with dark brown hair cascading down her back. She held her phone up to her ear in a borderline heated phone conversation and opened her mouth to say something before closing it back. She seemed pensive, contemplative, like she was calculating a life changing decision. Timothée liked her and wanted to figure her out more than anything but he had no idea how to approach her without coming off as a perverted stranger. He kept his eyes to himself and focused on his date with Alayna who was probably waiting for him at the shop a block away. </p><p>Marlowe stomped across the street in desperate need of a martini over a latte as of late. Conversations with her family took years off of her life but she didn’t have much of a choice now that she was backed against the wall with absolutely nowhere else to turn. </p><p>“I’m not asking for a lot, Dad, and I’ll pay you back as soon as I can, I promise.” She couldn’t pinpoint when “as soon as I can” would be but that was another problem for another day. </p><p>“I don’t believe you, Marlowe,” her dad replied, exhausted from arguing with his daughter.</p><p>“Dad, please.”</p><p>“I’m not giving you handouts, you know your mother and I don’t do handouts.” </p><p>“Is it really a handout if I’m a paycheck away from losing my gallery?”</p><p>“If you worked harder and got a real job, you wouldn’t be in this situation. I have a meeting so I have to go. Do not call me about this again, goodbye.”</p><p>It took every ounce of self-control in her body to keep her from launching her phone into oncoming traffic. She would cry about it once she got to work. </p><p>Timothée almost couldn’t believe that he was standing right behind her in the line for coffee. He wanted to say something and make her laugh to start a conversation but could barely keep his hands from shaking, nevermind simply asking her for her name. The line inched forward then she inched forward, slipping away from him every moment that he didn’t just <em> say something </em>. He looked around for Alayna who was nowhere in sight. He wrapped his earbuds up as the line moved again refusing to miss his one chance with this girl. </p><p>“Excuse me.” He tapped her shoulder. “Sorry to bother you but what do you usually get when you come here? I’ve never been here before.”</p><p>He drew in a breath when she turned to face him, completely taken by how beautiful she was. Her warm brown eyes smiled at him before her mouth did. “They make the best latte in the world if you’re into that. The iced macchiatos are also really good but that’s a little impractical since it’s 60 degrees,” she replied. </p><p>Timothée barely heard what she said while he studied the freckles dotting her delicate little face. “That sounds really good.”</p><p>“They are.” </p><p>She grinned and turned back around. The line moved again. </p><p>It was Marlowe’s turn to be infatuated. She thought she recognized him from somewhere but couldn’t place it. Before she knew it, she was thinking more about how cute this guy was rather than where she knew him from. She needed something good to happen today so she turned around again. “I’m Marlowe,” she said, holding her hand out.</p><p>Tattoos of roses and stars adorned her fingers. It shocked him at first but made him even more interested. </p><p>“Timothée,” he said, realizing it was only a matter of time before she or a random bystander recognized him. “Nice to meet you.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you, too.” She was next in line to order so she had to make it quick. “Hopefully I’ll see you around here more often. You’ll love the coffee, I promise.”</p><p>“You come here every morning?”</p><p>“Espresso runs through my veins, Timothée. I don’t think I could function without it.” </p><p>
  <em>“Next in line!”</em>
</p><p>Why was it so hard to say goodbye to someone she met twenty seconds ago? She looked at Timothée and saw a lifetime of laughs and memories that didn’t exist. “See you around.” Marlowe made her way to the register to order. </p><p>Seconds after Marlowe approached the counter, Alayna arrived, greeting Timothée with a hug and a kiss. She liked to have his undivided attention when they were out in public so he concentrated on her for the time being though he knew he’d be daydreaming about Marlowe until he saw her next. </p><p>Located across the street from the coffee shop was Marlowe’s art gallery, her pride, joy, and dream come true. She unlocked the doors, switched on the lights, and unpacked her laptop from her bag to get started on responding to emails. If only Timothée would get out of her head so she could focus. Then her phone rang. It was Warren. </p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Hey, babe, how’s your morning?”</p><p>“Fine, I just got to work. I tried calling my dad earlier to ask for money but he wouldn’t help me because apparently I don’t work hard enough so I don’t know how I’m gonna pay for-”</p><p>“That sounds awful, babe, but I’m really busy and didn’t call to have a conversation,” Warren interjected. “Remember that party I was invited to work on at the last minute? It’s tonight and I want you to come. It’ll be so much fun.”</p><p>“I don’t know, I just wanted to stay home tonight. I’m so tired,” Marlowe replied, extremely uninterested in spending her Thursday night at an obnoxious party with a crowd of rich people.</p><p>“Tired? How are you tired? The day just started, babe!” Warren laughed. “I’ll come by your place at six, okay? I also found a really nice dress for you the other day that I think is perfect for tonight. Should I come by the gallery or leave it with Carly and Juniper?” He was referring to her best friends and roommates. </p><p>“Whatever’s most convenient for you, I guess.” She should’ve known she didn’t have a choice when it came to Warren and his “events”.</p><p>“It’ll be so much fun, I promise. There’s probably gonna be some really cool famous people there, it’s <em> that </em> type of event. Make sure you rest up if you’re already tired, you’ll need all your energy!”</p><p>She let out a sigh. “Okay.”</p><p>“I’ll see you tonight, babe. Love you.”</p><p>She couldn’t even get in an “I love you too” before he hung up. She took her coffee cup to the bathroom, rinsed the liquid out in the sink, then went to the back room where she hid a cheap bottle of wine for emergencies. She filled the cup to the brim and clasped the lid back on. It was the only way she would make it through the day without completely losing her mind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. thursday night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>sparks fly at an event on a casual thursday evening</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After an entire morning of prancing around the neighborhood making heart eyes at each other and timing kisses for the paparazzi, Timothée didn’t think Alayna would bother him for a while—until she did. She suggested dinner and Timothée respectfully declined without an explanation. There was no reason to lie when he was making himself susceptible to more paparazzi photos that the world would see in twenty-four hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A promoter he met during a wrap party in LA invited him out tonight after they’d recently reacquainted themselves over text. Timothée didn’t remember much about Warren but he wasn’t going to pass on a good party that Alayna wasn’t invited to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlowe couldn’t be less excited about this party even though Warren brought over an extravagant Balmain dress she had no interest in wearing. She opted for a lace bodysuit and a jacket since it would be warmer than whatever Warren had in mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you seriously ditching Balmain for that?” Carly asked, horrified. “Is that even designer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The shoes are,” Marlowe said, showing off the red bottoms of her boots. “And the purse is YSL.” Both articles of clothing were from Warren. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone gets to have a boyfriend that buys them clothes right off the runway, you know,” Carly said, finally able to tear her eyes away from Marlowe’s subpar outfit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone should </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>a boyfriend that buys them clothes right off the runway,” Juniper muttered, rarely opening her mouth to make a nice comment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You all have been a great help, thank you.” Marlowe said goodbye to her friends to meet Warren outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warren didn’t even notice her walk outside the building while he was head down on his phone and had to be coerced out of his texting frenzy. Marlowe opened her arms for a hug and Warren stepped back in disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s the dress I bought?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was nice but I didn’t think it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> type of occasion,” she replied, now regretting her costume change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know what type of occasion it is? You didn’t plan the party,” Warren said with a wary half smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I just thought it would be too cold for a dress like that,” Marlowe said. “It’s pretty, though. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, I guess,” he muttered. “Please try and have fun tonight because you’re not very pleasant when you’re bored or whatever.” He opened the car door for her and went back to his phone for the duration of the car ride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hotel a few blocks from her apartment served as the venue for the party which Warren was extremely proud of since it was “so hard to book this place at the last minute”. Marlowe pretended to be interested in everything he was saying as practice for the remainder of the night. Ever since she started dating Warren and going to these high profile events she’d been reduced down to a trophy girlfriend: something to be seen and not heard; or something that smiled and nodded and didn’t talk. Granted, she didn’t really mind as long as she had a top rack wine in her glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Events like these were supposed to be fun and under different circumstances she’d be the life of the party; but whenever she was with Warren, she found herself dimming her light so he could shine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she thought the socializing died down, Warren waved another person over. She didn’t know how much longer her face could hold this stupid smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Warren! Nice to see you!” the man said, shaking his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a long time, I know! Have you met my girlfriend?” Warren turned to Marlowe and she queued up the smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Timothée could not believe the coffee shop girl was standing right in front of him with her brown eyes and freckles and finger tattoos. She wasn’t wearing a sweater this time so he could see the array of tattoos decorating her arms, some with stories, others simply for fun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A genuine smile shone through her false one when Marlowe saw his face. He’d set his hair free tonight, allowing half-tamed curls to take center stage and frame his face like a work of art she’d hang in her gallery. She could see the mutual attraction in his glittering hazel eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t believe I’ve met your girlfriend before, no,” Timothée said, the look in his eyes casting a spell on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe, this is my friend Timothée. Timothée Chalamet to be exact,” Warren said, proud of his high profile friend. “He’s an actor. He was in-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Call Me By Your Name’? Yeah, I remember,” Marlowe said, sick of Warren’s voice. “My sister and I saw it, she loves you.” She couldn’t believe she didn’t recognize him this morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much, I appreciate that,” Timothée said. “It’s really nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you too-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think of the venue? Isn’t this place sick?” Warren reentered the conversation, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question didn’t register in Timothée’s mind for a moment thanks to Marlowe’s ethereal presence. He tore his eyes away from her to answer Warren. “Yeah, it’s great.” He really didn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m super glad you could make it. It’s been so long since we met in LA. What have you been up to lately?” Warren asked, pulling Marlowe into him by the waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much to be honest. I’m leaving for a promo tour in about a month so I’m trying to enjoy the very rare downtime I have right now,” Timothée replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen you and that Alayna Peters girl all over the internet, wanna explain?” Warren inquired, holding Marlowe’s waist tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly crumbled to the floor in embarrassment at the mention of another girl. Of course he had a girlfriend, why didn’t she consider that? As if she could be with him anyway as per the arm around her waist. But it was fun to dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm...I don’t know,” Timothée said, tiptoeing around the subject. He didn’t completely ignore Alayna just to be bombarded by questions about her all night. “It is what it is, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Warren laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Timothée could do was shrug. “I don’t know, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all good, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. Sucks being tied down, doesn’t it?” Warren teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlowe peeled his arm off her body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” He glanced at the girl he could definitely see himself being tied down to. “...it’s not all bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not here though, is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I needed a night out on my own, you know? We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d give anything for a night out on my own. I feel you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could’ve had one if you didn’t force me to come here,” Marlowe interjected to the shock of both Timothée and her boyfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warren rolled his eyes; she was doing exactly what he told her not to. “I did not force you, Marlowe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did. You bought me a dress and everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A dress that you didn’t even wear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I didn’t want to be here,” she repeated, clutching her wine glass. “You always do this. It’s like clockwork.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not-” Warren cut himself off for poor Timothée’s sake. “We’re not gonna argue in front of my friend, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” She looked at Timothée, the only good thing at this party, the only good thing that had happened to her all day. “It was nice to meet you.” She excused herself from the two men and took it upon herself to have a good time, roaming to an outdoor patio area with an empty table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that,” Warren said to Timothée after Marlowe left. “She’s moody.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Timothée could tell there was another underlying issue but he kept his theories to himself for now. “I get it. She seems nice though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s nice enough. I’ll talk to you later.” Warren stormed off to talk someone else to death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Timothée journeyed to the bar to order a drink for himself as well as a top rack wine for the girl he hoped to entertain for the night. He found her outside alone at a table with an empty seat, her wine glass empty as well. He took a deep breath and approached the table. “Anyone sitting here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlowe grinned, relieved to see his kind face. She couldn’t remember the last time she had butterflies in her stomach but she was happy to experience the sensation again. “Nope, it’s all yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you something,” he said, handing over the wine glass. “It’s the expensive stuff. You deserve it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I know. This is my favorite wine, thank you so much.” She took a hefty sip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend this morning,” Timothée said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When was I supposed to mention that?” she laughed. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really have a girlfriend,” he responded. “I mean, I do...but also, I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s definitely not confusing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s PR,” he explained. “It’s for a film we’re doing together. We’re the leads and our characters have this incredible romance so they made us date in real life. We’ll be over as soon as the movie hits theaters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’ll fall in love for real and it’ll turn into the best relationship you’ve ever had in your life,” Marlowe speculated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doubt that,” Timothée smirked with a sip of his drink. “Not to sound cheesy or anything but I want a real relationship, you know? The organic, hits-you-out-of-nowhere kind.” It was exactly what he felt with her and he didn’t want to be dramatic, but he swore it was destiny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I smell a hopeless romantic?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More or less,” he replied. “But it’s kinda hard not to be when you meet a girl in a coffee shop and then see her again at a random party where she happens to be dating some guy you met months ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess this would qualify as a hits-you-out-of-nowhere relationship,” Marlowe concluded. “Is this your way of flirting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Timothée toyed with the Louis Vuitton ring on his finger, unsure if he was winning her over or not. “I don’t know, maybe?” he said, nervous beyond belief. She was just so pretty and charming. “I feel like I’m doing a terrible job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, kind of because I have a boyfriend,” she said. “But I’m open to other options.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, satisfied with that answer. “I don’t wanna be a homewrecker or anything, but you’re beautiful,” he sighed, the air from his lungs evaporating out of his body when she smiled at his compliment. “And I love your tattoos, they’re just—you’re beautiful.” He couldn’t keep words from falling out of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, that’s really sweet.” The genuinity in his compliment was refreshing. He was interested in her but not in the typical predatory guy-at-a-party type of way; he truly wanted nothing more than to get to know her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what would you have been doing if Warren hadn’t made you come here?” he asked, settling back in his chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would probably be sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s eight PM.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m aware,” she replied. “If I wasn’t asleep, I would be watching TV like a normal person or drawing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drawing? You’re an artist?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that. I have an art gallery across the street from the coffee shop. You should come by sometime if you’re into that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like that a lot, actually. I was so scared I would never see you again after this morning so I think I have to take advantage of every opportunity I have with you,” Timothée said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s obsessed,” she teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean it like that...or maybe I did, I don’t know. I’m not a stalker, I promise,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re not. Just don’t let Warren see you flirting with me. Very bold of you to hit on your friend’s girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I met Warren one time in LA months ago. I think he’s exaggerating when he says we’re friends,” Timothée explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does that a lot,” Marlowe hummed. “Warren’s an exaggerator.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you had to put up with him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three months,” she answered. “The first month was great and then it turned to shit. The honeymoon phase is very real and unfortunately does not last forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand. It’d be cool if it did last forever though,” Timothée said. He could see a future in her eyes. She could be the partner that the media thought Alayna was, someone who met him for coffee at the last minute and kissed him on street corners with no regard for incognito paparazzi—someone with an infinite amount of qualities to fall in love with a hundred times over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marlowe nodded. She knew what he was trying to do and it was working. “Maybe with the right person,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between the wine, the evening ambiance, and Timothée’s natural charisma, it was nearly impossible to not drown in the wave of obvious romantic attraction. Marlowe reeled herself back in for her and Timothée’s sake by remembering her commitment to her boyfriend. A self-centered, inconsiderate, short-tempered boyfriend, but a boyfriend nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should probably go find Warren so he doesn’t get suspicious,” she figured, reluctant to leave Timothée alone. “But I hope we see each other at the coffee shop again or maybe at my gallery. It was really nice to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll probably come by tomorrow if that’s okay with you,” Timothée told her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m looking forward to it.” She stood to her feet and said goodbye for the night, retreating back to Warren to take her rightful place on his arm as his trophy girlfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Timothée didn’t have much incentive to stay after his conversation with Marlowe ended. He didn’t bother to announce his departure to anyone, opting to leave in silence as to not draw attention to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His loneliness always heightened when he returned home after dark. Unlocking the door to a pitch black apartment reminded him of the one aspect of his life he’d had a hard time fulfilling. He wanted someone to be waiting for him to come home from events—or someone to take to events in the first place. This apartment was too big for him, his life and heart was too big for him; he needed someone to share it with. Fantasies of wine and long conversations with Marlowe carried him into sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. caps and coffee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>tim and marlowe meet again &lt;3</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marlowe was happy to see it was raining again so she could pull an oversized sweater over her head. For some reason she associated the weather with Timothée and a cheesy grin spread across her face. She didn’t want to get her hopes up about him visiting the gallery as he said he would but she couldn’t be paid to stop thinking about it. Carly and Juniper still lazed around in their pajamas while Marlowe gathered her things to leave the apartment. If she timed it correctly—and if Timothée had a craving for coffee this morning—she’d have another interaction with him. She rushed through her morning routine in hopes of catching him at the coffee shop in all of his charismatic glory. </p>
<p>	“How was the party last night?” Carly asked while Marlowe packed her laptop into its case and then into her backpack. </p>
<p>	“It was fine. Just another party,” Marlowe shrugged. </p>
<p>	“Was Warren upset you didn’t wear his dress?” Juniper asked. “I hope he had a gift receipt.”</p>
<p>	“Yeah, he was a little frustrated but I can’t do anything right anyways so it didn’t make much of a difference to me,” Marlowe replied. “But I didn’t freeze my ass off so that was a plus.”</p>
<p>	“I just think it’s funny that you used to complain about not being able to buy nice things and then you get a boyfriend who buys you nice things but you don’t wear them,” Juniper said. “It’s ironic, that’s all.”</p>
<p>	“Warren’s gift-giving is different though. I really do appreciate it, but at the same time, I know it doesn't come from a good place,” she explained. </p>
<p>	“Gifts are gifts, though,” Juniper commented. </p>
<p>	“I guess.”</p>
<p>	“Have a good day at work!” Carly cried, waving at Marlowe as she walked out the door. </p>
<p>	Marlowe’s eyes darted between every dark haired boy in the subway with the irrational notion that Timothée would be there and that he was looking for her too. Part of her felt bad for disrespecting her commitment to Warren until she remembered how he behaved last night and all the other nights before that. She considered breaking up with him. It wasn’t the first time she entertained such a thought. </p>
<p>	She walked down the street with her head on a swivel, looking left and right and left again for a person she’d probably spent a total of thirty minutes with but felt like she’d known an eternity. The rain panned out to a drizzle, making it much easier to search and walk at the same time. She reached the corner across the street from the shop still with no sight of Timothée, the ache of disappointment creeping into her stomach. Then someone said something behind her. </p>
<p>	“Morning.” It was Timothée. He’d rushed out the door to meet her on time too. </p>
<p>	“Hi,” she sighed, completely overflowing with happiness. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t staring down every dude with curly hair thinking it was you.”</p>
<p>	“I was starting down every tall girl with dark hair thinking it was you,” Timothée responded. “Isn’t your hair gonna get ruined in the rain?” He was saddened at the wet tousles of hair mixing with the dry ones. </p>
<p>	“It doesn’t matter to me, really. I don’t mind the rain,” she said. </p>
<p>	Timothée took his cap off his head and planted it onto Marlowe’s. “You wear it better than me,” he said. He had no desire to have it back. </p>
<p>	“Well, thank you.” She would cherish it forever. “I didn’t see you leave last night. What time did you go home?”</p>
<p>	“I don’t really remember, but it got really boring when we stopped talking,” he said. </p>
<p>	Marlowe looked down at her feet in embarrassment then realized it was one less second she was looking at Timothée. “Very sweet.”</p>
<p>	They walked across the street together in a comforting silence, the bustling city serving as sufficient background noise. </p>
<p>	“What did you end up getting last time?” Marlowe asked as they waited in line together. </p>
<p>	“A latte,” he answered. “And it was really good, thanks for the suggestion.”</p>
<p>	“Glad you liked it.”</p>
<p>	The cashier called them up to the counter. Timothée insisted Marlowe join him at the register, something she didn’t expect in the slightest. “Get whatever you want,” he told her, gesturing at the expansive menu on the wall. </p>
<p>	She hesitated. “Are you sure?”</p>
<p>	“It’s just coffee. Come on.” His eyes were comforting and excited. </p>
<p>	To Marlowe, it wasn’t just coffee, and she didn’t treat it like it was just coffee. Warren didn’t even buy her coffee, or anything, unless there was some selfish underlying reason. But Timothée wasn’t selfish and the underlying reason for using his card this morning was simply because he wanted to. </p>
<p>	“Didn’t you say your gallery is across the street?” Timothée asked once they were on the street corner again. </p>
<p>	“It is. Would you like a private tour?” she asked, stepping off the curb against the street light. </p>
<p>	“I’d love that.” Timothée followed her into the intersection, deciding he’d go anywhere as long as she was leading. </p>
<p>	Marlowe unlocked the glass doors of the gallery, stepping aside to let Timothée in first. He didn’t expect it to be this big while maintaining a quaint, intimate sentiment. It suited her personality well.</p>
<p>	“Here it is!” she sang, “it’s not extremely big, but then it’d be a museum and not a gallery.”</p>
<p>	“I think it’s huge,” Timothée said. “This is really amazing.”</p>
<p>	“Thank you. I’d tell you about the art but I don’t wanna start rambling and embarrass myself. But, I just got this new painting from a really talented artist I’ve been following for a bit.” She walked to a panel displaying an abstract canvas of colors. “I made sure it was facing a window so people can look at it as they walk by and they do. I could stare at it all day.”</p>
<p>“You know, I just moved into an apartment and the walls are completely bare,” Timothée said, visualizing the painting in his living room. It didn’t seem to fit there so he considered the dining room. “You should help me find some art to hang.”</p>
<p>“I’ve always been interested in interior design. I’d love to help,” Marlowe said, smiling up at him.</p>
<p>“And I’ll start with this one.” He truly was intrigued by the painting. “How much is it?”</p>
<p>“Oh.” She didn’t expect him to buy anything. “The asking price is $2,500.”</p>
<p>“Then I guess I owe you $2,500,” Timothée said. “It’s beautiful.”</p>
<p>“It is. Let’s go to the register.” She set up her desk and swiped his card. “Should I tell the artist Timothée Chalamet bought their painting? Maybe they’ll commission you something.”</p>
<p>“Aren’t you an artist? Do you take commissions?” </p>
<p>Marlowe masked her insecurity with a smile, amused by his assumption. “I just sell the art for now but I’ll consider it.” She turned the digital register around to face him. “Just input your phone number and address for me please. It’s super confidential, I promise it won’t leak or anything. You won’t have crazy fans at your door.” </p>
<p>Timothée typed his address on the tablet and wrote his phone number on a stack of sticky notes he found on the desk while she wasn’t looking. He couldn’t wait any longer. “Text me, maybe?” he said, handing the stack back to her. </p>
<p>She didn’t understand what he meant at first and Timothée waited for her to figure it out in agonizing anticipation. </p>
<p>Marlowe held the sticky notes in her hands like it was a bar of gold worth millions of dollars in value. She struggled to find the words to fit the moment. “Oh,” she stammered, blushing out of control. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“If I didn’t do it now I was never gonna do it,” he replied. “I hope I’m not coming on too strong.”</p>
<p>“Well, I do have a boyfriend so I don’t know if there’s any way to not come on strong…”</p>
<p>“You’re right. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He knew better than to go for someone else’s girlfriend but something about her made him forget common decency. </p>
<p>“Don’t be sorry,” Marlowe said, frantically interjecting. “I’m not mad. I’m flattered, actually. You kinda seem way out of my league.”</p>
<p>“You’re out of my league, are you serious? You own an art gallery,” Timothée said. “But bottom line, I really wanna get to know you, regardless of romantic attraction or whatever. If that’s okay.”</p>
<p>Marlowe nodded, treasuring the precious numbers on the tiny piece of paper in her hands. “That’s more than okay.”</p>
<p>	Timothée could finally exhale. “Cool. So I’ll talk to you later?”</p>
<p>	“Definitely. And thanks for the coffee.” He left before she could thank him for the hat on her head too. </p>
<p>	Time passed slowly today at the gallery leaving Marlowe with an entire day to structure her first text to Timothée. She didn’t want to be corny or predictable but also didn’t want to be over the top. At this point, she prayed for any kind of distraction to keep her mind from dwelling on something so trivial until Warren walked in the door to make her regret her wishes. </p>
<p>	“Hey, babe.” He was empty handed which Marlowe was happy to see.</p>
<p>	“Hi. What’s up?”</p>
<p>	“I was in the neighborhood. Work, you know?”</p>
<p>	She held in a breath. “Yep.”</p>
<p>	“I wanted to apologize for that stupid argument last night about forcing you to go to the event and everything. You were right. It’s just that I like sharing things with you and we don’t always go out and do things, you know?”</p>
<p>	Marlowe nodded. “Yeah, I know.”</p>
<p>	“I know I can be a huge asshole but I love you so much. I hope you know that.” He reached for her hand and held it tight. </p>
<p>	She smiled at him, appreciative of his words for once. “I love you too, Warren. Thank you.”</p>
<p>	“Did you have fun, though? I saw you talking to Timothée outside.” Warren glanced in the direction of the sticky notes with his phone number on it but didn’t think twice about it.</p>
<p>	“Yeah, he’s really nice. He came by the gallery today, actually. He bought that painting over there.” She figured she might as well be honest about whatever relationship she had with Timothée.</p>
<p>	“Oh, that’s cool,” Warren said. He stared at the piece of art, nodding pensively. “Guess we’re all friends now.”</p>
<p>	“Guess we are,” Marlowe responded. </p>
<p>	“Well, I just wanted to stop by really quickly and apologize. I’ll talk to you later.” He leaned over the counter to kiss her then left. </p>
<p>	She closed up the gallery at five, more than ready to fall into bed and never get back up. She caught a glance of her reflection as she locked the glass doors, the overwhelming dreamy feeling overcoming her when she saw Timothée’s hat on her head. Marlowe took out her phone and started a new text message.</p>
<p>	After spending the entire day editing and rediting possible things to say, she thought she’d be ready to hit send but found herself continuing the editing process on the subway ride home. Finally, she got sick of herself overthinking and sent something. She stashed her phone in her pocket and got off the train at her stop.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. losing control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>if i said i still like her, no i didn't &lt;3 tim's having trouble staying away from marlowe despite the consequences ...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Timothée didn’t think many people would care about him talking to Marlowe at the party Thursday night, but the calls from PR proved otherwise. Timothée planned a date with Alayna as an apology for his lack of effort in this relationship and to quell whatever uncertainty she may have concerning the party rumors. He knew she enjoyed breakfast more than any other meal of the day, the restaurant a few blocks from her apartment being her favorite place to indulge. Taking her out was the least he could do to make it up to her. </p><p>Alayna waited outside her building decked out in Burberry outerwear. Her natural scowl melted into a smile when she saw Timothée approaching, only ever uncrossing her arms to wrap him in a hug. </p><p>“You look expensive,” Timothée said, always fascinated by her sense of style.</p><p>“I am expensive,” Alayna replied. “Let’s walk.” She linked her arm with his as they strolled down the street. “How are you?”</p><p>He didn’t want to bring up any issues before she did. “I’m fine. Just laying low,” he said. “How are you?”</p><p>She smirked, unamused by the question. “Oh, I’m great,” she raved. “Absolutely fantastic.”</p><p>“I know you’re upset about-”</p><p>“Let’s talk about it when we get to the restaurant,” she interjected. “I won’t be as mad when I have coffee.”</p><p>Timothée could tell she was still mad even when she had a cup of coffee in her hands. He watched her raise the cup to her lips and sigh as she swallowed, satisfied with the flavor. </p><p>“So, this girl,” Alayna began, folding her hands on the table, “who is she?”</p><p>“No one. We just met at that party I went to and we had a conversation. That’s it, I swear.” Nevermind getting coffee together, buying art from her gallery, and texting all night.</p><p>“Are you sure because I heard that it could be more than that.”</p><p>“Where’d you hear that from?” Marlowe suggested that Warren could be the whistleblower during their text conversation last night but he wasn’t sold on that theory.</p><p>“An inside source. Does it matter?” she said. “We could’ve gone to that party together, it would’ve been good for us. But you completely blew me off for no reason—well, I guess it wasn’t for no reason.”</p><p>“Alayna, I wasn’t trying to be malicious or anything, I just wanted a night to myself for once. We spend a lot of time together,” Timothée explained.</p><p>“A night to yourself with another girl? Very interesting.”</p><p>“She has a boyfriend anyway so it’s not like anything could happen between us. There’s nothing to worry about.”</p><p>“Maybe, but the media loves to twist things around. She might be a nobody to you, but the rest of the world sees you and another girl and automatically thinks, ‘Oh my god, Timothée Chalamet is cheating on Alayna Peters’ and then TMZ gets word of it and it’s a trending topic on Twitter. I don’t want to be trending because I’m getting cheated on.”</p><p>“We’re not even really dating.”</p><p>“I know! Which is why I really don’t need people to think I’m getting cheated on,” she cried. “Just please keep it in your pants, I’m serious.”</p><p>“I promise you there’s nothing going on. I’m committed to this.” Saying it aloud helped solidify it in his head. </p><p>“I know this whole thing sucks and you’re probably tired of me after having to fake being in love with me for a movie and now you have to keep faking, but I don’t want to be the only one invested. At least act like you like me.”</p><p>“I know, I’m sorry. I really am.”</p><p>“This film means so much to me. I haven’t solidified my spot in the industry like you have. I <em> need </em> this,” she said. “So when this is all over you can talk as much shit about me as you want, but right now, just help a girl out and use those acting skills for as long as we need. Can you please do that?”</p><p>He nodded, truly sympathetic to her cause. “I will. Of course.”</p><p>She smiled with another sip of her coffee. “You’re such a great boyfriend.” </p><p>A few rounds of mimosas and a stack of pancakes later, he walked a happily reassured Alayna back to her apartment so they could both carry on with their day. He hailed a cab and immediately called Warren as the car pulled off. </p><p>“Hey, Timothée, what’s going on?” </p><p>“Hey, man, I just wanted to talk to you.” He danced around his words because he didn't want to accuse Warren of anything without proof. </p><p>“Sure, what’s up?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but Alayna told me that someone saw me talking to your girlfriend on Thursday night…” </p><p>Warren went silent for a beat then replied: “Did she say who saw you?”</p><p>Timothée took that as an admission of guilt. “She said it was an ‘inside source’. It could’ve been anyone, there were a ton of people there.</p><p>“Hm.” Another beat of silence. “So what does this have to do with me?”</p><p>“I just wanted you to hear from me that Marlowe and I were talking than hear from some questionable news source that might blow it out of proportion. I want nothing to do with your girlfriend, I would never...I wouldn’t even think about-”</p><p>“I get it, I get it. And she hasn’t said anything—except that you bought a painting from her gallery or something which I don’t care about. She needs the business.”</p><p>The painting. She was coming over today to deliver it. </p><p>“So we’re good? I didn’t want there to be any weird tension between us or anything.” </p><p>“We’re fine, it’s all good,” Warren said. “Thanks for calling me, I appreciate it.”</p><p>“No problem, man. Talk to you later.”</p><p>Timothée couldn’t tell if he meant it or not when he told Warren that he wanted nothing to do with Marlowe and it bothered him. As much as he wanted a real relationship with someone, it didn’t seem worth it considering the current circumstances. </p><p>He cleaned up around his apartment as he waited for Marlowe to arrive with the painting, swearing off of any and all feelings that could develop. It pained him, but he knew it was for the best. </p><p>Marlowe, on the other hand, didn’t necessarily mind entertaining her feelings for Timothée especially when her relationship with Warren seemed to be nearing the end. She wanted to make sure something was really there since it was easy to fake attraction over text. </p><p>She was surprised her Uber driver dropped her off in East Village instead of the Upper East Side or Tribeca. She carried the painting into the elevator up to the seventh floor and knocked on the door toward the end of the hallway. </p><p>“Whoa, you actually carried that all the way here?” was the first thing Timothée said when he opened the door. </p><p>“It’s not that bad, I’ve delivered bigger paintings,” she shrugged. </p><p>“You do all this yourself?”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t mind being a one-woman show. I kinda like being in charge of everything.”</p><p>Timothée let her inside, trying his best to ignore the fact that she was wearing his hat. </p><p>“I didn’t expect you to live in this neighborhood,” she said, quite impressed with his quaint but luxurious apartment. </p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>“I guess I equated actor with something really expensive. My mistake.” She scanned the room for a good place to hang the painting. </p><p>“East Village has always been my favorite neighborhood. Couldn’t really imagine being anywhere else,” Timothée replied with a content sigh. “Should I give you a tour so we can scout out good places for that?” He nodded at the painting.</p><p>“Sounds like a good idea.” </p><p>Marlowe followed him around the apartment, starting with the kitchen then upstairs to the three bedrooms, two of which were vacant. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said the walls were empty and she could already envision art pieces that would liven the place up. </p><p>“I think this would look amazing right here.” Marlowe pointed to the entryway. “You should get a little side table and some cute little plants or something. I think it would look really nice.”</p><p>“I like that idea,” Timothée said, truly taking the advice to heart. “Can you decorate the entire place?”</p><p>“If you pay me.” She winked and got to work as Timothée watched, offering help that Marlowe politely declined every time.</p><p>“This looks great, wow,” he said, impressed by how much of a difference art could make in a room. “Any other deliveries to make today?” All the self-control he’d conjured up before she arrived immediately evaporated.</p><p>“Actually, you’re my only stop,” Marlowe answered. For a split second she imagined spending the day with him. An aimless walk around the city powered by thought provoking conversation was exactly what she needed.</p><p>“Well, if you’re not doing anything do you wanna get some coffee or something?” he asked, fully aware that he’d already had coffee this morning with Alayna. “It’s my turn to choose the place and suggest drinks.” This wouldn’t be a romantic outing if he didn’t make it one.</p><p>Marlowe held onto the straps of her backpack as she rode the wave of adrenaline from Timothée’s suggestion. “Are you sure that’s okay? Since you were already in trouble with PR or whatever?”</p><p>“It’ll be fine, we sorted everything out.” He stashed his cellphone in his pocket then swiped a sweater off the coat rack. “Join me?”</p><p>Marlowe nodded; as if she had a choice. “You know how I feel about coffee.”</p><p>Timothée opened the door and let her out first, locking the door behind the two of them. </p><p>No words were exchanged during the first block. Timothée still wrestled with the fact that they were out...together...in public. He almost started to regret it. </p><p>“So where are you taking me? And please don’t say Starbucks,” Marlowe said, fed up with the silence.</p><p>“It’s not Starbucks, don’t worry. It’s a hole in the wall, there’s only two blocks left,” he replied. He couldn’t hide his anxieties any longer. “Also, just so there’s complete transparency, I called Warren today.”</p><p>“Oh.” They came to a halt at a street corner, both of them observing traffic for a safe time to cross. “Why...would you do that?” she laughed.</p><p>“Well, I saw Alayna this morning and since she and everyone else were so concerned about whatever...<em> we </em> are,” he began, that one word uncomfortable on his tongue, “I figured I would set the record straight with Warren so he didn’t give you shit about it.”</p><p>“Assuming he hasn’t already given me shit.” That awkwardly sweet conversation they had at the gallery still confused her.</p><p>“Oh. I’m sorry.” </p><p>They stepped off the curb between passing vehicles, their minds whirling with a million things to say to the other.</p><p>“But I think you were right about Warren snitching on us. He sounded like he knew something but he didn’t wanna tell me,” Timothée said. </p><p>“We talked the other day and I got the same feeling. I think he’s okay with us hanging out but I also don’t know. He’s hard to read.”</p><p>“Well, let’s not think about it now, we’re having fun. Tell me about you and Warren. How’d you guys meet?” He only asked because he wanted to know where it all went wrong.</p><p>Marlowe explained how she, Warren, Carly, and Juniper all grew up together and that Warren always had a crush on her. One day she said yes to a date after a round of resounding no’s. She hinted at her rocky past relationships, something she didn’t enjoy talking about, but she didn’t mind glossing over it with Timothée. He didn’t judge; he just listened.</p><p>The coffee shop was empty to Timothée’s surprise. He suggested a cold brew with soy milk that Marlowe raved about. They sat at a table away from the window just in case.</p><p>“So you and Alayna huh?” Marlowe asked, adjusting his hat on her head. “How’s that going?”</p><p>“Pretty good. She’s nice.”</p><p>“Which means you hate her.”</p><p>“What? It does not!” he exclaimed. “She can be hot and cold sometimes but she’s cool. Amazing actress too, the film’s gonna be great.”</p><p>“You know, I’m really upset that I didn’t recognize you when we met. I was like ‘Oh this guy’s kinda tall and cute and I feel like I’ve seen him before’ but I never thought you’d be...who you are,” she said. “What are the odds?”</p><p>“I was a little afraid you were gonna ask for a picture when I was, like, flirting with you,” he said, lowering his eyes in embarrassment. </p><p>She hated herself for blushing. “Kinda cool that a movie star’s into me. Never thought this was where my life was going,” Marlowe said, surrendering to his picture perfect face. She would draw it later. “Feelin’ kinda special.”</p><p>“You are. I hope we can do this all the time. It’s really nice to just hang out with someone like this,” he responded, already nostalgic for this moment. </p><p>“Well, you already have my number so text or call me whenever. And you know where I work so swing by if you want, it gets really slow sometimes.” She loved how his hazel eyes illuminated when he smiled.</p><p>“I get that.” He knew loneliness and he didn’t want her to feel it for a <em> second </em>. “I can bring you coffee. If that’s okay.” He knew it wasn’t but right now he didn’t care. He needed her.</p><p>“Of course it’s okay. Bring me one of these every day…” She held up the iced coffee he’d graciously purchased for her. “...and I’ll love you forever.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. breakfast benefit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>marlowe makes the mistake of trying to spend time with her family ....</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marlowe often awoke at sunrise just to have a moment of silence to herself before her friends woke up. A bowl of instant oatmeal and her sketchpad made a perfect pair at the kitchen table where she could watch the sun rise over the city. She let her imagination run rampant on the page and somehow found herself sketching wild curly hair and hazel eyes. She’d never had a muse before and she couldn’t believe her first would be Timothée.</p>
<p>	Then, her sister Sidney sent her a text inviting her to a breakfast event their parents were sponsoring. Marlowe had heard Carly and Juniper talk about it a few times this week, complaining about how they didn’t have anything appropriate to wear. Sidney made a compelling case before Marlowe had the chance to decline so she let her know she’d be there. </p>
<p>	She caught Carly off guard as she blowdried her hair in the bathroom, shocking her friend who walked in the room in nothing but a towel. Marlowe shouted over the noise of the blowdryer, “I’m almost done, I swear.”</p>
<p>	“No, it’s fine,” Carly shouted back. She watched Marlowe finish her last quadrant of hair, her arms crossed over her chest. She waited until she unplugged the drier to ask her burning question. “Going somewhere?”</p>
<p>	“Sidney invited me to that breakfast thing you and Junie have been talking about. She said she didn’t wanna go by herself and we haven’t seen each other in a while so I figured why not?” Marlowe answered.</p>
<p>	“Oh. So you’re going with us?”</p>
<p>	“Guess so.”</p>
<p>	“Oh…” Carly was less than impressed but maintained a neutral disposition. “What are you wearing?”</p>
<p>	“I don’t know. I was thinking about that pink dress-”</p>
<p>	“You’ve worn that already though…” Carly blurted out. “...right?”</p>
<p>	“Clothes are meant to be reworn,” Marlowe said. “No one will know I’ve worn it already except the three of us.”</p>
<p>	“But I think it’s out of season and-”<br/>	“Carly, who the hell cares? Jesus Christ.” She shoved passed her friend to get to her room, going straight to her closet to put on her pink dress. She made a point to be the first one ready to go so her friends didn’t have another reason to berate her. </p>
<p>	Juniper was the last one to be finished as always and looked straight at Marlowe as she made an announcement. “Ground rules,” she said. “Carly and I are gonna do our thing and you’re gonna do yours, got it? I think you know what the 1% of Manhattan thinks of you and I can’t believe you even got invited, but mind your business. We don’t need drama this morning.”</p>
<p>	“I’m going for Sidney and that’s all,” Marlowe stated. “I won’t get in your guys’ way.”</p>
<p>	Lucky for her friends, Marlowe was an expert at being invisible thanks to Warren. She didn’t even take offense to their “ground rules” and she couldn’t believe she was invited either. Sidney knew the unsavory reputation her sister held—she really must’ve missed her. </p>
<p>	Carly and Juniper separated themselves from her as soon as they got out of the car, leaving Marlowe alone in a crowd of judgemental rich people unapologetically side eyeing her every move. Rumors spread like wildfire in the socialite circle. </p>
<p>	“You made it!” Sidney exclaimed, quickly embracing her older sister. “I’m so happy you’re here, how are you?”</p>
<p>	“Fine, I guess. I don’t think I should be here but I wanted to hang out with you,” Marlowe responded. “How’s senior year?” </p>
<p>	“Amazing. College applications are almost due, I’m so nervous. How’s Warren and the gallery?”</p>
<p>	She smirked. “Warren’s himself. I called Dad the other day asking for help, don’t know why. I’m really scared I’m gonna have to choose between rent for the apartment or rent for the gallery soon. As long as apartment rent doesn’t go up, I should be able to manage though.” The money conversation always knocked air out of her body. </p>
<p>	“I heard about that. He was really pissed off,” Sidney said. </p>
<p>	Marlowe shrugged. “Shouldn’t have asked. It’s okay.”<br/>	“Maybe you should ask again face-to-face. He might like to see you. Mom’s around here too. You guys haven’t seen each other in months,” Sidney said, desperate to reunite her family.</p>
<p>	“Not a good idea, Sid. Let’s just keep to ourselves for now, yeah?” Marlowe suggested. She insisted they grab some food at the sprawling breakfast buffet, promising to snag her a mimosa if she didn’t mention their parents again. </p>
<p>	Marlowe thought about telling Sidney about Timothée just for fun since everything else in her life was such a drag at the moment, but it was too early to gauge if their relationship really meant anything yet. Plus, she saw Warren laughing and conversing just a few feet away.</p>
<p>	“I didn’t know Warren was here,” she said, shocked that she was happy to see him.</p>
<p>	“He goes to everything. I heard he was working with Dad on some business stuff so they’ve been talking a lot lately. Go say hi, I’ll wait.” Sidney raised her mimosa, cheering to her sister.</p>
<p>	“I’ll be right back.” Marlowe excused herself from the table and approached her boyfriend, surprising him with a hug from behind.</p>
<p>	“Whoa, what the hell?” He brushed her arms off his body. “Marlowe?”</p>
<p>	“Fancy meeting you here,” she mused, bringing him in for a kiss. </p>
<p>	“How did you even get invited?”</p>
<p>	“You’re not happy to see me?” she asked.</p>
<p>	Warren gestured to the circle of onlookers, two of them being her parents, Stephen and Rosa McLean who looked disappointed in her as always. She shrunk in embarrassment and Warren took two steps away from her.</p>
<p>	“Back to ask for more money?” Stephen asked, staring fear into her eyes. “Or here to seduce one of my business partners into writing you a check?”</p>
<p>	“Dad!” she cried. “I came because Sidney asked me to. We haven’t seen each other in forever.”</p>
<p>	“There are plenty of other places for you and your sister to meet but you chose here? A sophisticated event? Your presence is an embarrassment,” Rosa said, looking around to make sure her society cohorts didn’t notice her daughter’s company.</p>
<p>	“I didn’t come to embarrass you, I came to see Sidney, that’s all,” Marlowe said. “I don’t want anything, Dad, I swear.”</p>
<p>	“Then leave,” Stephen said. “Your mother didn’t spend weeks planning this event for you to show up and ruin it. Please go before you make a scene.”</p>
<p>	Marlowe rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? Is it that big of a deal?”</p>
<p>	“Word gets around fast here and we don’t need people knowing the local pariah was at one of our events,” Rosa argued.</p>
<p>	“Local pariah?! I’m your daughter!” Marlowe exclaimed.</p>
<p>	“You’re doing it right now, oh my god, I can’t take it,” Rosa sighed, walking away from the conversation before she fainted. </p>
<p>	“Go, Marlowe. Right now,” Stephen demanded. “And don’t do this again.”</p>
<p>	Marlowe looked to Warren for reassurance. He twisted his lips, complicit in her father’s ruling. </p>
<p>	“Where are you going?” Sidney asked, watching her sister gather her purse and coat. </p>
<p>	“I got kicked out, as expected. Thanks for the invite, though. I’ll text you later.”</p>
<p>	“Sure.” Sidney waved goodbye. “Sorry.”</p>
<p>	“Not your fault.” Marlowe smiled at her, more upset that she had to leave her sister than the public humiliation she faced from her parents. She left the building quickly and quietly.</p>
<p>	Marlowe roamed the streets of Tribeca in heels that were beginning to massacre her feet. She found an empty bench at a small park and immediately took off her shoes, immersing her feet in the dewy grass to relieve the pain. She replayed the encounter in her head over and over, from her father’s irritated gaze to Warren’s complacency. She was aware she didn’t have the greatest track record, but she figured time would’ve healed those wounds by now. For some stupid reason she thought of Timothée again and desperately wished she was drinking coffee with him right now. It was only eleven AM so she gave him a call. At this point, there wasn’t much less to lose. </p>
<p>	Timothée took a break from sifting through clothing racks to answer his cell phone. He jumped upon seeing Marlowe’s name on his screen and instantly accepted the call. “Mornin’!”</p>
<p>	“Hey, Timothée, how are you?” She really couldn’t remember why she was calling.</p>
<p>	“Pretty good. Just doing some shopping.” He picked up a black knit sweater to add to his collection. “How are you?”</p>
<p>	“Oh, just hanging out in Tribeca.” There was no reason to tell him the entire story. </p>
<p>	“Wait, really?” he asked. “I’m in Tribeca.”</p>
<p>	Marlowe froze. “Shut up, no way.”</p>
<p>	“Send your location, I’ll come meet you—if that’s okay.” He made his way to the register to pay. </p>
<p>	“That sounds great, actually. I could use the company.” She absolutely could not wait for him to get here.</p>
<p>	Timothée nearly ran down the street with his shopping bags in hand to get to her, scouring the park for a girl with freckles and tattoos. She waved him down when she saw him and exhaled all the tension in her body at the sight of his bright smile. </p>
<p>	“Hey! What’s up?” He greeted her with a hug. “You look really nice,” he said, admiring the pink dress under her coat. “Going somewhere?”</p>
<p>	“I actually just left. I made the fatal mistake of going to a family event and I got kicked out.”</p>
<p>	“Yikes,” Timothée said, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”</p>
<p>	“I’m fine, just a little bummed because I wanted to spend time with my sister. But you’re here now, so it’s okay.” Then she remembered his PR relationship. “Wait, is it okay?”</p>
<p>	“It should be, don’t worry about it.” He gestured to the bench she was previously sitting on and they sat down together, completely oblivious to the incognito cameras and impending rumors surrounding yet another simple conversation.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. ghost!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>maybe this relationship was too good to be true ...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the middle of a coffee meetup planning with Marlowe, Timothée got a text from his agent Brian telling him that there would be an impromptu meeting in half an hour. Timothée told Marlowe he’d be MIA for a bit and promised to text her later. </p>
<p>	Timothée didn’t think much of the meeting until he saw Alayna and her team in the room as well as the PR team for their upcoming film. He didn’t bother to greet anyone and took the only empty chair left at the table. </p>
<p>	“Glad you could make it,” Brian said.</p>
<p>	“Of course. Is everything okay?” Timothée glanced at Alayna and caught her irritated eye roll.</p>
<p>	“I’m guessing you haven’t been online at all today,” Brian said.</p>
<p>	“You know I’m not really active on social media.”</p>
<p>	“Well, there’s photos of you and some girl that isn’t Alayna going around. Care to explain?”</p>
<p>	Timothée didn’t know if he could. “What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>	“Oh my god, don’t act like you don’t know.” Alayna handed him her phone. He swiped through candid photos of him and Marlowe at the park this morning. Photos that would have been sweet and unassuming in another other situation. “Who the hell is this?”</p>
<p>	“A friend,” Timothée responded, “that’s all.”</p>
<p>	“The same ‘friend’ you were talking to at that party the other day?” Alayna argued. </p>
<p>	“Yes, but-”</p>
<p>	“We talked about this, Timothée!” Alayna exclaimed. </p>
<p>	“I know, and I told you that I’m just friends with this girl. Nothing else, I swear.” Maybe if he said it out loud enough times he would believe it. </p>
<p>	“I don’t believe that’s possible.”</p>
<p>	“It’s possible to have friends you aren’t romantically attracted to, believe it or not,” Timothée retorted.</p>
<p>	“Please don’t sit here and preach to me about this when you know you’re lying! I’m not stupid!”</p>
<p>	“Okay, okay, relax,” Brian said. “Timothée, I think it’s best if you don’t see this girl anymore. Or at least until the press run is over.”</p>
<p>	“I don’t understand why I have to be punished because the media doesn’t understand that I can hang out with a girl and not have feelings for her. We’re just friends! I don’t even know why I have to explain myself!”</p>
<p>	“You’ve been in this industry long enough to know how all of this works,” Brian replied. “Figure it out.”</p>
<p>	Timothée knew Brian and Alayna were right. He couldn’t let a girl he met three days ago compromise a movie he worked on for nearly a year—even if that girl made him feel like his life was a romance film. </p>
<p>	He ignored Marlowe’s texts for the rest of the night though it pained him to throw away a relationship that brought him so much joy over the past few days. He reminded himself of his responsibility to Alayna and the film and turned his phone off for the rest of the night. He was starting to think he would never be able to have a real relationship at this rate. The loneliness intensified when he turned off the lights. </p>
<p>	Marlowe figured Timothée really meant it when he said he’d be MIA for a while and gave up on texting him over the weekend. Carly and Juniper didn’t have any plans which was a rarity so the girls stayed in, keeping themselves occupied with pizza deliveries, wine, and cheesy romcoms. The last time the three of them had that much fun was high school. </p>
<p>	“Juniper, you’re not even paying attention to the movie,” Carly whined, attempting to snatch Juniper’s phone out of her hands. </p>
<p>	“Sorry, but this TMZ article is extremely interesting,” Juniper replied, glancing at Marlowe across the couch. </p>
<p>	“Really? TMZ is fake half the time anyway,” Carly smirked. </p>
<p>	“Is it ethical news? No. But it’s never fake,” Juniper said. “And I think our friend is a trending topic.”</p>
<p>	“What friend?” Carly peeked at Juniper’s screen.</p>
<p>	Marlowe turned up the volume on the TV to drown out her friends’ incessant chit chat. </p>
<p>	“Oh my god, Marlowe, is that you?” Carly exclaimed over the TV. “That looks just like you!”</p>
<p>	“What are you talking about?” Marlowe asked.</p>
<p>	“You and Timothée Chalamet in Tribeca? This was the same day of the charity benefit breakfast! Oh my god!”</p>
<p>	Marlowe shook her head. “What?”</p>
<p>	Juniper passed her phone over. All Marlowe needed to see was a headline and a few paparazzi pictures to know this was a complete shitshow. Her intuition about public outings with Timothée was right all along.</p>
<p>	“Are you guys, like...fucking?” Juniper asked.</p>
<p>	“Oh my god, no! No, no, no, no. No.” Marlowe handed Juniper her phone back and reached for her own, immediately texting Timothée to ask if he’d heard the rumors. She couldn’t help but fall down the gossip rabbit hole, clicking on article after article speculating about Timothée Chalamet and a mystery girl. </p>
<p>	“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” Carly asked. “How do you even know him? And why didn’t you say anything?”</p>
<p>	“Does it matter? We’re just friends, I swear to God.” She gave up and ran into her room before dialing Timothée’s number, growing more and more frantic each time he didn’t pick up. Between her friends asking rapid fire questions and her phone blowing up with social media notifications, it was all too much for her to process at once. She decided she’d talk it over with him on Monday for coffee if it was still a possibility. He never texted back when she asked if they were still on. </p>
<p>	She stood on the corner across from the coffee shop at 9:25, anxiously awaiting his arrival for their rendez-vous at 9:30. She let two lights go by as she searched for his face in the crowd, hoping he was just running late. Then she realized he could already be waiting for her at the shop. She nearly ran across the street, elbowing through the morning rush crowd in proper New York fashion just to be disappointed once again. She stood in line for coffee anyway since she’d made such an effort to get here. </p>
<p>	Then on her way out, she heard someone call her name. She did a full 180, a spark of relief igniting in her heart at the thought of Timothée finally making an appearance. The fire was swiftly extinguished when Marlowe saw Warren.</p>
<p>	“Figured you’d be here,” he said, joining her on her walk to the gallery. </p>
<p>	“Always am,” she replied. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>	“I wanted to talk to you. I think you know why.”</p>
<p>	Marlowe nodded, reluctantly unlocking the doors to the building. “It’s not what you think, I promise.”</p>
<p>	“I don’t know, seems like it is what I think,” Warren responded, smiling through his irritation. “Don’t lie to me, Marlowe.”</p>
<p>	“I’m not lying!”</p>
<p>	“I know you’ve done this in the past,” Warren said, stalking around the room. </p>
<p>	“Done what?”</p>
<p>	“Cheated! Don’t play dumb with me!” he cried. “Should’ve figured you’d go after Timothée since he’s rich and famous or whatever. That’s your type.”</p>
<p>	“You say that every time you feel threatened.”</p>
<p>	“But I’m right!” Warren exclaimed. “You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again, I’m not fucking stupid.”</p>
<p>	“You believe everything people tell you instead of believing your girlfriend who lived all that shit! And you knew about me before we started dating so don’t act like this is all a surprise to you,” Marlowe argued. </p>
<p>	“Marlowe, if everyone’s saying the same thing then what am I supposed to believe?”</p>
<p>	“You’re supposed to believe me! I’ve explained it to you a million times!”</p>
<p>	“Now you can explain it to Timothée. Highly doubt he’ll want you when he finds out you've fucked every rich dude in Manhattan ,” Warren smirked.</p>
<p>	“Lucky for you he hasn’t even been talking to me since those photos were taken so I don’t think you have much to worry about,” Marlowe said. Her eyes still glanced at her phone screen every time she got a notification, hoping Timothée would text her out of the blue. </p>
<p>	“I don’t even feel sorry for you.” Warren walked out of the gallery, somehow managing to slam glass doors behind him.</p>
<p>Marlowe gave up on getting a hold of Timothée, ultimately realizing she couldn’t force someone to care about her if they didn’t want to care. She wondered if he ever did. Were the past few days all in vain? Or did she take them too seriously? Did he want anything to do with her all along?</p>
<p>	Over the course of the day, Marlowe received countless phone calls and DMs asking for a statement about her relationship with Timothée. Her Instagram comments exploded with fans speculating about her and judging whether she was pretty or not. She thought about blocking people or making her account private but after tireless overthinking, she decided to let it all go and somehow figure it out on her own, like always.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! not promising regular updates for obvious reasons (life) but i'm gonna try my best. follow me on twitter (@TCHALAREM) if u wanna be friends and on wattpad (@lil-susie) cuz this work is published on that platform too! thanks for reading :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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